


Thy Rights Shall Guard

by B_Radley



Series: Rise and Fight Again [9]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Gratuitous large animals that can eat you named Floofy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7057957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ahsoka Tano reluctantly accepts an assignment that could put her on the radar of the new Galactic Empire. An assignment that brings her back to where it all began for her, and in contact with another shadow of her past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Running

**Author's Note:**

> This is a challenge to myself to see if I can write fiction. Please review, leave comments, even if you say "it sucks". Just give one reason why and how I can improve it.
> 
> It is a prelude to a larger series that shows Ahsoka's early years in the embryonic Rebellion. There will be OCs, but they will serve the story.
> 
> Note that this an Ahsoka that is not the sixteen year old Padawan who walked away from the order, who as one of the lost episodes implied got swindled in a speeder bike deal due to her naïveté. She has been through Order 66 and a few other adventures, but is not the fully grown Warrior yet that we see in Rebels.
> 
> Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm/Disney/etc. Except for Ahsoka. Ahsoka is all ours as a fandom.
> 
> Enjoy and thanks for reading.

_"We fight, get beat, rise and fight again."_

General Nathanael Greene, letter to General George Washington, 1781

 

**Approximately 4 years since Order 66**   
**Alderaan - the Eastern Mountains**

The bright sunlight plays on my face as I climb upwards from the depths of the nightmare. I sit up and realize that I am laying in my own bed in my own house. Or at least what Bail and Breha Organa have lent me for my use.

I realize that I have kicked the covers off of me, despite the cool temperatures. I am drenched in sweat, despite my lack of sleeping clothes.

I stumble to the 'fresher. I splash water on my face and look into the mirror. I look into the eyes of someone much older than twenty-two, much older than most people twice my age - in experience. I throw on a running top and and an older version of the hunting skirt that I used to fight in and walk outside. As I stretch, I marvel at the beauty of the mountains and the lake setting of the cabin. I wish that I could stay here for the rest of my life; forgetting what has been done to the galaxy. But, I have work to do.

I have an arrangement with Bail. I can stay in the handmaid's quarters in their palace as much as I want, but when Imperial bigwigs visit, I make myself scare. I have thought about staying here full-time, but I have spent too much time alone. It is in my people's nature to be around my clan. The last seven or so years have made me a loner by necessity, but I do crave contact. Plus, I get to spend time around the imperious four year old that has the Viceroy of Alderaan wrapped around her little finger. I smile as I start running. I take a difficult pace off trail up the side of a high ridge. I am barefoot in the manner of my people, with a huntress' instinct for avoiding obstacles.

I remember making this run with a little girl perched on my shoulders, holding on to my neck, leaning into my lekku. I can hear her glee and her screams as I take high jumps off of the rocks. I imagine a miniature Mace Windu on my shoulders, chiding me for my over-exuberance. Of course, on my other shoulder, I imagine my Master egging me on. I can only hope that Leia doesn't tell her mother about our adventures. I would hate to get flagged for "inappropriate use of the Force."

As my run develops, I think about my dream or whatever it was. This is a new one. Usually I dream about Anakin being cut down however it happened, or Master Plo being shot down by his clones over Cato Nemoida, or Kenobi being blasted by an AT-TE cannon at the hands of his trusted right-hand, Marshal Commander Cody. I even sometimes dream about my own narrow escapes - during my trial and Order 66.

In my dream, I see a familiar sight - one that I saw dozens of times during my time on the frontlines. I see a collection of Republic Commandos hanging onto the straps as a lartie cuts through the miasmic air of a planet of huge trees. I see a surreptitious signal from one of the brothers. The brothers unstrap their DCs and point them at one other brother. The brother removes his bucket. He looks like any other clone, but there is a subtle difference. His head is shaven, with a large tattoo on the side, but something is off about the shape of his face. As one of the other clones raises his weapon and points it at his head, I see a blur as the object of the other clones ire unsheathes a bright green shaft of energy and takes out the three Commandos. The LAAT/i starts to veer right and left to throw him out. He plunges his saber into the overhead pilot compartment. My view cuts to the outside, as the transport explodes in a ball of fire. The only thing that I see is the lightsaber lying in a forest. I don't get a clear glimpse of the style, but I feel like I should know it.

What does this mean? There is a nagging sense that I should know that doomed Commando, as well as the saber. My mind wanders to other mysterious sensations that I have experienced in the last months. Sensations that I have pushed to the back of my mind and my heart, for reasons that I cannot even fathom.

A slight stitch in my side indicates that I have been running for a while, lost in my thoughts of the past. I realize that I have run all the way along the ridge to other side. I figure I have run for about two hours. I spy my objective. There is an identical lake to the one near the cabin, albeit smaller and deserted. Without hesitation, I strip off my clothes and jump in, swimming out to the middle and diving to the bottom.

The run back is shorter, but more difficult as I go straight up the side of the ridge and plunge down the other side. As I come out of the woods near the cabin, I see an airspeeder sitting there with the Royal Crest of House Organa on the side. I slow my pace. I know that my rest is over.

As I walk up to the porch of the house, I see the confirmed end of my spell here on Alderaan, in the form of a tall, beautiful young woman dressed for the city. Nola Vorrserrie, former Naboo handmaiden, diplomat, and sometime friend - whenever it doesn't conflict with her boss's wishes. She is Bail Organa's chief fixer - all at the tender age of 19. I think it vexes her that I am not as impressed with this as most would be. But then, most who had spent their adolescent years up to their hips in mud, blood, and shit on various garden spots of the Galaxy might not be. Or someone who had grown up around her distant cousin, Padme Amidala. My heart catches for a moment as remember. I feel my body tense as I approach her. Her own body languages shows the tension that still seems to be in the air.

"Hey, Tano," she says. I nod at her, as I grab the towel I left on the porch rail. I uncap the companion water bottle and drain it. I move towards her and we embrace, tentatively. I can see that she wrinkles her nose as I go in for the hug. My clothes are drenched with sweat, and frankly bantha paddocks have probably smelled better. She looks down at her immaculate power suit, but quickly looks back up to me. Could be the reason that I went in for the full body hug.

Without a word, I strip off my clothes and hang them on the rail. I can see that she is shocked for a second, but frankly, my give-a-shit meter isn't even registering. I walk into the 'fresher and start a bath in the old tub. There is a shower, but I feel like a three hour run over the mountains rates me some time soaking in a tub.

As the tub is filling, I drink about two more water bottles full. After a second, Nola follows me into the bathroom, dragging a folding chair. She says nothing as I dump bath crap into the tub. As soon as it finishes filling, I get in and lay back.

"I'm sure that you didn't come all this way from Aldera to come look at my naked body," I say. "I could understand it if you did." She relaxes imperceptibly. I can see the retort forming a kilometer away.

"I've seen better, Tano," she says. "But, at least the scars are gone. For the most part."

_Okay, maybe things still haven't relaxed that much._

Our relationship has been a little tense over the past couple of months, ever since I got back from my latest adventure in rabble rousing and being a messenger girl. I have been here for a couple of months, resting up after my latest brush with disintegration. Fortunately, all that training that I went through in Jar'kai paid off, as I was able to deflect a turbo laser blast away from me.

Of course the two lightsabers that I had used (a couple that I had from my cache that I had taken from a sleemo who had no business with them) had been destroyed and I wound up with plasma burns on my hands and forearms. Three weeks of some high quality bacta immersion left me with only a couple of small scars.

Nola and the Organas were relieved, but highly pissed at me. They felt that I had taken an unnecessary risk with my safety. I felt that my training gave me the edge in analysis of risky situations. Contrary to popular belief (I'm looking at you, Rex), Master Skywalker and I didn't just pull plans and risk analysis out of our asses. We were very consistent in performing this work. We just threw it all out the window when we saw a way to get the job done with a little more inherent risk to ourselves.

I can't fault them for their feelings. It is good to have people who care, especially after being in a situation where everybody who I thought cared about me tossed me to the wolves at the first chance they got. But, I feel the same way as I did when Anakin would get in his overprotective moods and keep me back from missions. They have me around because I have a very specific set of skills, one that I might even be the only one left that tap into them. They should let me do what I have to do.

For a moment, I close my eyes. I feel Nola's arms around me as unimaginable pain cuts through my being. I feel her tears splashing on my face in the darkness.

  
"So," I ask, "what brings you out to the wilderness in those shoes?"


	2. Flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Return

I really should learn to say "no" to Bail Organa and Nola Vorrserrie. A pony farm is looking nice and healthy right now.

Of course this realization usually hits me when I am getting shot at, stabbed, or otherwise threatened, and today is no exception, as four V-wings launch another volley of laser fire at my stern.

A flurry of beeps and whistles assault my ears as R7-A7, my trusty partner of two years of war and several months of whatever it is that I am doing now, vents his own frustration at our predicament.

"I know, I know," I say through clenched teeth. "Just switch all power from everything except life support and engines to the aft deflectors and hold on."

I forget about my thoughts of various Organas, Organa employees, and droids, as I concentrate on flying to and through the crystalline canyons of a planet that I thought that I would never return to--the site of my first taste of life in wartime.

Christophsis.

According to my mission parameters, given to me over a late breakfast at the cabin--after Nola in no uncertain terms told me she would not be discussing tasks of Galactic Import while I was sitting in a bubble bath, and after she had tossed me one of Leia's bath toys as she left the room--I was not to have any contact with the Imperial presence on the planet.

Try telling them that. Instead of coming out of hyperspace in my reliable old war-surplus Y-wing to a gentle vision of the beautiful blue planet, I have emerged right in the middle of a battle between a squadron of Imperial fighters and an antiquated armed freighter. I guess that the object of all that Imperial presence--who I have the sneaking suspicion are my supposedly discreet contact--should thank me as I draw off a flight of the small fighters from them.

My dependable, easygoing astromech, in addition to following my orders to the letter, shows a great talent for improvisation as well. I hear his beeping as he decides to not power down the aft turret and takes out one of the pursuers. Of course, to do that, he went ahead and moved power from life support. I feel my lungs start to compress; this might be a good time to pull the mask over my face that comes with the armor that I am wearing.

"You could've warned me, you know," I say. A sniggering beep is his only response. "Thanks for evening up the odds, bud." I thank whatever powers that be that I sure can pick'em when it comes to droids (I conveniently forget about the whole Goldie incident).

I move my eyes back to the instrumentation. The three little blips on my tail still blink, in spite of the fact that that I have increased my velocity by taking a page out of Anakin's book and enter atmo at a right angle. I am glad that my armor has a cooling unit, as the heat increases on my exposed lekku and montrals. The three Imps come in at a shallower angle, but they stick with me. I consult my navigation gear. I am hit by a sense of recognition. I see the narrow twisting canyon that has its own love affair with right angles. I head down there, decreasing my angle of attack and plunging into the canyon. I open myself to the Force and easily negotiate those right angles.

Okay, not so easily as my port engine scrapes a crystalline wall. Only two of the V-wings have followed me in the canyon, which runs for about a thousand kilometers to the Capital City. One of the Imperial craft is not as good as the other, as he augurs into a wall when missing a turn. The high cover V-wing dives into the canyon to helps its squadron mate kill me. Both V-wings score hits on my port engine. I can see the smoke start to billow. Alarms are going off with cacophonous glee.

There! Just what I am looking for. Approaching ahead of me is a beautiful, glowing double spire jutting up from a canyon wall. I hit the flaps a bit, causing a yaw to the left, as well as a shedding of velocity. The two _Vevs_ cross behind me. I do quick calculations in my head. Not really mathematic or scientific, but more in line with some of the tricks that Rex and the boys taught me in various pool halls on Coruscant. I yaw a little bit more as I approach the structure. I can feel in a tingling sensation in my lekku as the right-most fighter lines up his shot. He fires; I plunge downward. His shot strikes the crystal and my montrals are assaulted by a screaming deluge of noise. I grit my teeth and see the beam deflect from the tower straight at an identical, smaller structure on the opposite side. The beam changes course and strikes a glancing blow on the left fighter, causing it to careen into the other. One shallow outside loop and roll with another yaw and I fly through the explosion.

I can hear Rex as if nearly a decade hasn't passed. _Eight-ball, side pocket, Commander - always call your shot._

My exhilaration at not blowing up or being splattered against the crystalline structure is short-lived. Either option is still on the table as the alarms increase in pitch and volume. I check the rendezvous coordinates and set a course for them. I decrease speed to save the stress on the engine, as well as hit the in-frame extinguishers to take care of the fire.

A long hour later, I am approaching a sheltered canyon, just big enough to land the fighter/bomber in. Surprisingly, in what may be a first for me, I am able to set a ship down that only has one engine or other semi-catastrophic damage relatively intact.

I climb out of the fighter and sit on a nearby rock. As much as I don't want to, I keep the mask on. As a concession to the collective Organas' worry about me, I am wearing a full set of clone trooper Phase II scout armor in urban blue-patterned camouflage . I don't wear a standard bucket; just a mask with life support function. I think this will be the last time that I make this concession. Even though the armor is light, I feel like my ability to fight is cut in half. I have always been a light fighter-- witness my first Togruta hunting version of proper battle attire. I think this thing will be coming off. I can fight in the bodysuit, if I have to.

My armor and the reason that I am wearing it brings me back to my discussion with Nola. After we devoured a takeout breakfast that she brought with her from Aldera--an obvious attempt to get on my good side, as it is a place that an obligate carnivore feels right at home in- she lays out my next job.

The warm feelings that I am starting to slowly feel towards Nola again immediately dissipate when she tells me where I am going.

"Tano, we need you to go to Christophsis."

The word conjures up a vision in my mind's eye of a tiny girl walking off of a _Nu_ -class shuttle into the smoky sunlight of day. A tiny girl so proud of her lightsaber and her carefully selected battledress. A tiny girl standing up to her new master's disdain. A tiny girl also overcompensating for a distinct lack of confidence by lecturing a war-bred Captain on where to put a battle line. A tiny girl who by the end of the day had proven herself just enough for her Master to accept her.

I try to focus on what Nola is saying.

"...the Free Ryloth crowd has asked for our help," she says.

I decide to actually become a part of the conversation. "I thought that Syndulla didn't exactly want to play with anyone else," I remark.

She sips her caf and takes a moment to frame her response. "He doesn't. But he asked us if we knew anyone who had any experience on Christophsis."

_And there it is. My ticket to another garden-spot. One that has barely recovered from my last trip there, as well as second trip from the Republic._

A second trip, after I had left the Order, that cost a--well she wasn't a friend, but maybe not an enemy--her life. A place that nearly caused the fall of a Jedi Master to the dark side and was probably the final nail in the coffin of the Jedi Order.

I look at Nola's face. She is giving me time to think. I am grateful for that.

That of course, doesn't mean I can exactly say 'no'. A part of me wants to.

"What's the job?" I continue.

"Syndulla has information that a high value prisoner has been captured there by the garrison. This prisoner had actually contacted Cham before his capture and has indicated that he has some good Intel on new bombardment ordnance under development."

_So why don't I just find a nice warm cell there and lock myself in. Better yet, a nice wall to stand against._

"Haven't we learned that most of these people who contact us with this poodoo are usually so full of shit and/or in it for themselves? Or they are Imperial dupes?"

"Yes, but fortunately, it will be Cham that will bear most of the risk," she says. "We are just going along to provide local knowledge."

I ask the obvious, "What do we get out of it?

"We get to share the intel, as well as hopefully build some good will with the Twi'leks that can move them into the network."

"What's this 'we' shit?" I ask, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Point taken, dear," she replies, not shying from my glare. "You will provide local knowledge, as the prisoner is held in the local jail in the Capital City. A place that you spent some time in, right?"

"Not the jail, but the city, although this little party might change that," I correct. "It was also nearly ten years ago and I was fourteen."

"Fourteen and a Jedi; that adds to your age, in most people's eyes."

I finally have to bring up something. "Nola, this is all well and good, and I guess we will get something out of it, but we--and by 'we' I mean 'I'--run the risk of exposing everything that has been slowly building. Plus, I can't testify directly to this, but Cham Syndulla is a loose cannon."

"Did you ever meet?"she asks.

"I met him briefly when he congratulated the pilots on breaking the blockade over Ryloth. He was very appreciative, especially to me--he extolled my bravery and skill. It stuck with me; what fourteen year old girl doesn't want the praise of a warrior and a leader like that?" I close my eyes. _Even though I felt like a fraud after my first disastrous command._

I shake my head. I move on, as I did then, when I grew.

"Viceroy Organa has given his approval for this. He thinks that we might be able to share this ordnance info with other planets in the Outer Rim that may be coming under Imperial annexation. Might go a long way to building more friends."

"As long as we don't hold it over their heads as a cost of joining us," I hear myself saying.

Nola just looks at me as if that had never occurred to her.

I absorb this, as she continues, "But, he has conditions for you. He wants you to wear some type of armor." She sees me start to argue. "He feels like you have been taking too many unnecessary risks lately. He wants to decrease the amount of bacta that you are using."

"We are starting this whole thing slow. Bail doesn't want to lose you or risk your exposure before we even get going good with this thing. It is why we are so tight with your identity. There are less than maybe six people who know your full name and that you are Fulcrum." She stops, looks away, taking a deep breath. "He insists on guarding your identity from potential allies." She looks me in the eye again. I file the look for later. "He doesn't want to lose you at all, but he knows there is a certain amount of danger. He wants to minimize the risk, based on your last couple of missions when you have come back injured."

I take a deep breath. "Nola, I may not be as old as a lot of people. I know that I am young," I say, "but I have a lot more experience and training than a lot of those senior citizens. I know what I am doing."

She smiles at that. "I know that," she says, "He knows that, too. But he wants you to try the armor. It'll be light."

"Nola, you've seen the wartime holos - I didn't wear much then. I like to move."

"Yeah, I have also just gotten a glimpse of the number of scars that you have as well, when you were trying to flirt with me in the tub."

"Must've worked. You were looking," I say, with a full-on Smirk.

"Couldn't help it. You were waving it around," she says with a laugh. Then her smile leaves her face.

"This is non-negotiable. Also non-negotiable - you need to do everything you can to avoid Imperial engagement. That includes not being a part of any active operations. Your job is advising them. Use your connection with Cham."

_Non-negotiable. Right._

I am brought back to the present on Christophsis by a screaming in the Force. I react an instant before something very large picks me up and throws me against the opposite canyon wall.


	3. Deceiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Merfilly for the encouragement and feedback.

The stars in my head rival any that I have seen in my travels. I slide down the canyon wall as I struggle for breath. I can't move, as the impact against the wall has jammed several plates of this damned armor together, as well as knocked my mask off. I shake my head; my vision clears and I see the source of my unscheduled flight.

A large, six-legged beast stands over me. I stare into a large maw filled with teeth that are easily the size of my montrals. A blast of fetid breath flows over me. I do the only thing that I can do. I bare my own sharp canines and wait to see if the thing has a taste for Togruta. I try to move the Deece out of my shoulder holster without startling it into suddenly gaining a taste for my head.

I hear a high-pitched voice speaking in a language I have not heard in a long time. The hell-beast dips its head - and a huge wet tongue licks my face from chin to montral. The size of the tongue easily allows my whole face to be inundated. Another burst of the language and he stops. I look up. Peeking over the armored collar of Fluffy is a young Twi'lek girl. Her teal-blue skin glows in the sunlight. She looks to be about eleven or twelve, but looks at me with eyes that are much older. The beast, once I can get a better look at it without the threat of impending digestion, is one that I remember from a long-ago briefing on the flora and fauna of Christophsis. A _Krull_ , my foggy memory recalls--fierce looking, but easygoing, playful and a fairly docile mount--but also very loyal.

From behind the Krull I hear a voice from the mists of memory--a Ryloth-accented voice of command, that I last heard thanking me. "Numa!" the voice yells, "get away from her!"

Numa, who I assume is the little girl, grabs the hell-beast by the armored collar of its neck and guides him away from me. I see the source of the voice.

General Cham Syndulla. The Liberator of Lessu. A powerful figure in Ryloth's history. A man whom Master Mace Windu, a Jedi who was not given much to superlatives, extolled as a great, if proud leader. A thorn in the side of the embryonic rebellion with his high-minded, Ryloth-first attitude.

Syndulla leans on a makeshift crutch and points a blaster at my head. His face and lekku are bruised and lacerated. As he looks at me, recognition slowly creeps across his face. He holsters the blaster.

"You have grown quite a bit, Commander Tano, since I last saw you," he says with a raised eyebrow.

"I get that a lot," I reply.

He hobbles down and gives me his hand. In spite of his injury, his grip is strong as he pulls me to my feet. I nearly fall over, as the damaged armor seizes up. With a curse--that I suddenly remember to stifle in front of the little ear-cones; I think Leia might have picked up a few choice words from me--I grab the chest plate and start dismantling the armor and throwing it as far as I can. In a short while, I am clad in the tight black bodysuit and feel much more free.

When I am through with my tantrum, Cham wordlessly hands me a cloth to get the Fluffy-slobber off of my face. I thank him and hand him the cloth back. He holds it by his thumb and forefinger and drops it on the ground.

I shake Syndulla's proffered hand and reply, "It's good to see you, General, but please call me Ahsoka, or Fulcrum in front of anyone else. I haven't been a Commander in a good number of years."

He looks at me soberly and says, "I heard about your misfortune. I refused to believe that you were a terrorist. I am glad you were exonerated, but sorry to see that you weren't a Jedi anymore. You are a born warrior, young one."

I nod, unable to say anything.

He saves me by motioning to the little girl. The girl walks over and stands shyly behind him. Shyly, but she looks at me with fierce eyes. "You have met Numa," Cham says. "She is one of my most promising warriors."

I say nothing, as she is only a couple of years younger than I was when I went to war. She probably spent a great deal of her early life running from Separatist--and probably a few of my Republic--bombs and droids. I notice that she is wearing what looks like a clone bicep-plate with orange script that reads "Boil." A name from my past - Boil and his partner Waxer, two of Master Kenobi's scouts - inseparable and loyal to a fault.

I kneel down and smile at her. I pull out a ration bar and give it to her. She tears into it.

"I am assuming that you were in the freighter that caught the attention of the _Vev_ ," I hear myself say.

"Yes. We were jumped as soon as we came out of hyperspace," he says with teeth clenched. "Thank you for pulling those four off of us. We were able to handle the other eight, but we lost my ship and the rest of my team."

"Numa and I managed to get to the escape pod. We are the only survivors."

"So, I am assuming that you are going to abort the retrieval of the intel?" I ask.

He looks at me like I have grown a third eye. "Of course not," he says firmly. "I have signaled for an evac. It should be here in ten hours. Should give us plenty of time to affect the rescue."

It is my turn to look at him as if there has been an ocular transformation. I note the difference in the word that he used.

"General, I have been instructed only to provide advice and guidance in this. I am not to assist you with active operations," I tell him. "My advice is--it would be suicide for you to go in alone to an Imperial prison by yourself."

"I won't be alone. I'll have Numa."

I lose whatever shred of good temper that I have left after getting shot down--okay, landing hard--and getting tossed about by a little girl and her pet Fluffy. "Are you insane?" I yell. "You can't take a little girl into a jail to get some asset out, just on the off chance that this asset has actionable intel!"

"I won't be taking her in to the jail," he replies, in the face of my anger, "I will just take her to the nearest place to plug in."

Numa looks at me fiercely and nods in response to Syndulla's words.

"She may look young," he continues, "but she is one of the best slicers I've seen. Plus, I have learned that the prisoner is being held in an encampment on the outskirts of the city. Something about not wanting to risk moving her until the interrogator gets here."

_Okay, that sounds too good to be true._

"We would stand a better chance if you could help us," he says to me.

"I have already told you. I can't help you."

"This prisoner is very important to my people," he says, averting his eyes from mine. A flash of something in the Force nags at me.

"What are you not telling me about this intel?" I demand.

He still is not looking at me. Numa is busying herself with petting Fluffy.

"Cham," I say in a quiet calm voice.

He closes his eyes and then opens them. He looks me directly in the eye. I realize that famous military commanders who are used to getting their way, even those with a bit of political experience, may be out of practice in lying.

Especially those with the reputation that Syndulla has for principle.

We stare at each other, neither saying anything.

Finally, he breaks eye contact. "There is no intelligence about new ordnance. At least not that I know of," he tells me.

_Well, shit_.

I stand rigid, as I silently curse his name to the Huntress and all of her clan of the Pantheon. I add a few generic curses in Huttese in my mind.

Without a word, I spin on my heel with clone-like precision and walk to the Y-Wing. "Arseven," I say, "fire it up. We're getting out of here."

As I climb onto the snub fighter's wing, Arseven makes a noise that I have never heard him make. My leg stops in midair. The noise is an accusatory beep. _Would you really leave a little girl and an injured old man?_

_Plus the fact that we only have one engine. I can repair it, but it might take a few hours_.

I close my eyes and turn to the two Twi'leks. I can feel their gaze on me.

"Cham," I finally say. "I will stay with you until your evac comes. I will help you avoid Imperial patrols. If your evac gets spaced, I will figure out how to get both of you off of this world. But I am not going to walk into an Imperial encampment on your say so, especially since it feels like every word out of your mouth has been a lie."

Syndulla looks at me with a gaze that is filled with many things. Things that I had not thought possible, given our brief acquaintance on Ryloth. Anger. Loathing. Mistrust.

Something else, also.

Fear and confusion. Confusion from both he and Numa on how to proceed.

I ask the question.

"Who is in this Imperial encampment?"

Cham takes a deep breath, counts ten, and releases it.

"My right hand."

XXXXX

The three of us sit on the ground. Fluffy lies down next to Numa; not taking his--I am assuming, but have no desire to check--eyes off of her. She pulls out a datapad and starts to play a game. I look over at the pad and realize that she is playing sabacc against the computer.

Obviously the brains of the three of us.

Cham starts with his story, "Isval is my second-in-command. She got wind of the senior Imperial officer here dealing in slaves as a side business. Twi'leks, Zeltrons, even a few Togruta. With this last he looks at me pointedly."

"She decided to come here on her own to attempt to free the ones that were still here. I am fairly certain that she was going to kill the Imperial as well, but I can't be certain. She didn't contact me until she was already here. By then we started monitoring the Imperial traffic as best we could. We learned that she had been taken."

"This is personal for her. She was a slave on Ryloth. Whenever slavery comes up in one of our operations, she is the advocate for getting these slaves freed. She is very passionate about it. She is my conscience when it comes to slavery."

He pauses to take a drink of water. Numa continues to play her game, but I can see her looking at Cham from the corner of her eye.

_Slavery_. The one thing that could be guaranteed to set Anakin Skywalker off, based on what little I knew of his past.

I nearly found myself enslaved, along with my people from Kiros, by the Zygerrians. I remember meditating while hanging in a cage over the city, while a Zygerrian promised me that I would be his plaything until he tired of me. I had vowed to myself that this would never happen, as either he or I would be dead.

I try to play the responsible Commander.

"Cham, I realize that she is important to you, but she made her choice. You are the leader of Free Ryloth. You have a bigger picture to look at."

I am not sure that I could convince myself of this.

He sighs. "It is not so simple as that, Ahsoka," he whispers. "She is my second. I operate on a compartmentalized structure, to avoid the rolling up of all my cells. I am sure that you understand."

I nod, knowing where this is going.

"She is the only one, other than me, who has knowledge of all of the cells."

I close my eyes and hear Numa pull another Idiot's Array on her datapad.

I open my eyes and look at the Liberator of Ryloth with steel in my heart.

"How much does she know about any other movements?" I ask, afraid of the answer.

"She is my right hand, Ahsoka. I can only hope that they think that she is just another stupid tailhead who has wandered into their little side business." The slur is said with a curled lip.

"How much, Cham?" I repeat.

"She knows what I know. She knows that Organa is one of the primary instigators of the movement."


	4. Sneaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who have read. This chapter is a bit longer; I have also added a chapter so that I didn't have a Yavin sized chapter in the middle.
> 
> Enjoy, please comment. 
> 
> Thanks again.

I am seated precariously on top of Numa's Fluffy. There is room for all of us on top of his broad back, behind the armored collar. I leave the driving to Numa, as I am trying to figure out how the hell I am going to pull this off and survive long enough for Bail Organa to help me "explore opportunities in the food service industry."

I look through my macrobinoculars at the Imperial camp. Like a lot of things Imperial, it brings back memories. In this case a memory of Separatist prefabricated encampments/fortress. The early twilight brings searchlights and walking patrols around the outside of the perimeter.

_Take it easy, Tano. This isn't the main base. At most, there should be only about a hundred troops, plus a couple of old AT-TEs. Air support and reinforcements at their beck and call._

Easy.

This is what everybody expects of me, as I have supposedly matured from the snarky Padawan who thought with her lightsaber. Coming up with some inspirational plan to wade through poodoo and come out smelling like perfume. Some of it is probably me, but a good amount comes from the example set by Anakin Skywalker and to a certain extent - although he would never admit it - Obi-wan Kenobi.

Hell, it probably comes right down my lineage from Yoda to Dooku to Qui-Gon.

I look down at Numa. Cham is watching me and listening intently from his perch behind us, his injured leg rests straight out along the Krull's side.

I pull a small device out from one of my belt pouches. I hand it to Numa. She looks at the device and then her eyes widen. She sends an interrogative to me in her own language. I am rusty, but I am able to follow it. Her lekku add emphasis to her question.

"Numa, sweetie, here is something you can use to help me get in, without getting close to the camp," I explain. "Just link it with your datapad, and use it to slice in to their systems and cause trouble for them while I am sneaking around. General Syndulla can be your eyes and my ears."

She nods her understanding. Both she and Cham both look like they are going to protest. I hold up my hand to both of them.

"I don't want to hear it. If I am going to be involved, we're going to do it my way," I say, firmly. "You will both stay here with Fluffy, slice in and cause havoc while I go over the wall."

"Floofy?"the little one asks.

"Fluffy," I say, patting the beast's back.

"Floofy," she says.

_Floofy it is, then._

I return to the task at hand, after the naming of our transport has taken place. "My objective is to find Isval and get her out of there," I say. "If there are still slaves in there, I will try to free them, but the objective is getting the three of you out of here, safely."

Cham does not look happy, but he nods reluctantly.

_Now for the fight._

"If you do not hear from me by daybreak, Arseven has instructions to rendezvous with you and get you back to Ryloth," I say. "Numa's datapad will lead you to him, and him to you. Take care of him. He will be loyal to you and is a good friend."

I can see that Cham is ready for the fight. Numa's eyes are glistening as she absorbs the words in Basic and what they mean. I cover her earcones, disguising it as stroking her face. I am amazed that a twelve-year old accepts the touch.

"Cham, I want no argument from you. I will do my best to get your friend out, but if I have to, that information will die with both of us. I would rather not find out how well I hold up to whatever torture they can devise for me."

His eyes are downcast as the magnitude of my words sink in. "Commander Tano," he says, forgetting my earlier words, "I cannot stand by and let you die for my fight--a fight that you did not ask for, that I tricked you into coming here for. Please let me go with you."

"General, we have gone over this," I gently reply. "You need to concentrate on leading your people, but more importantly to me, getting this little girl home."

"It is no matter how I got here, General," I continue, "I am here and this is what I was born to do. I know that this may not be the Senator's choice, but it is mine. Isval made her choice to help her people. I think that I owe it to her choice to help her."

"Who am I to decide what freedoms that I fight for, if I am to fight for any of them?" I finish.

_Yoda would be proud of me for my words, if not my proper syntax._

I remove my hands from Numa's face. She lets go of Floofy's collar and seizes me. She holds me as tightly as she can. I put my lips against her forehead and say a few half-remembered Twi'leki words. I try to make my lekku respond as a Twi'lek's would, but there are subtle differences in inflection between our two peoples. I can feel her shaking.

"Hush, little one," I whisper. "I will see you soon."

She turns away from me.

"Let's not get morbid, Cham. I will be back and with Isval," I tell him. "But if something happens, tell the Senator to tell Leia...."

I stop, suddenly unable to continue.

"You will tell him yourself, he says. "I was wrong earlier."

"About what?"

He doesn't reply directly. He holds out his hand. I reach to take it, but he moves it along my forearm, almost to my elbow. He grasps it in a warrior's grip. I return the gesture.

"May the Force be with you, _General_ Ahsoka Tano."

For once, I don't have the last word, as I close my eyes and try to get the response out.

XXXXX

I am in full sneak-mode as I make my way toward the encampment. As I am coming up on the outer marker of the camp, my sense of the past kicks in, as it usually does - during the most inopportune moments.

_I wonder if they have a box handy for me to use,_ recalling my first ever mission as a Jedi. I think back to my morbid thoughts before I jumped down from Floofy.

_This is where it all began. The place where I started on my path - whatever that is._

_Live for now and make the most of it._

I have left my blasters with Cham in case they need them. I only carry some surprises in my pack and the rescued lightsaber, one of many I have appropriated from black-market dealers, morbid collectors, and a couple of Imperial evidence sheds. I may not be a Jedi, but I will not have these harbingers of dead Jedi - basically their lives and skills put on display or as trophies. I know at some point, I will have to find my own again, but I am not ready to take that step.

Besides, even my Windu-conscience doesn't seem to have a problem with this behavior. Most of the sleemos that I did actually have to contact survived the experiences, although they don't really remember them, except for some mysterious broken bones.

I take comfort from the presences that accompany the blades.

I quell my thoughts of the past and come up to the outer perimeter. There are two stormies standing there shooting the poodoo instead of doing what they are supposed to be doing. I scan them and realize that they do not have the signature of my _Vod'e_.

These must be conscripts or volunteers. I file the information away.

I reach out to them and implant a little bit of mischief in both of their skulls. They walk off to the other side of a high wall, leaving a short cleared path to the next perimeter.

Only a little bit of me wonders what they will think when they wake up tomorrow morning naked with their armor and weapons thrown down a convenient crystal pit.

My little Mace-Windu-on-my-shoulder is frowning so hard that I think he will break his jaw.

_Can I help that my time away from the Jedi might have caused a little bit more creativity in dealing with the weak-minded?_

I crawl towards my next objective, my muscles crying out in protest after my trip to the opposite canyon wall, courtesy of the Floofy express. At least I am not bleeding or burned this time.

The night is young.

I come to a low wall and realize that I won't be able to mind-trick my way out of this one. I burrow into my dark cloak (I seem to always have one handy everywhere I go) as a searchlight sweeps over me.

As my mind is moving at light speed trying to figure my way out of this one, the searchlight winks out as it passes me.

_That's my sweetheart, Numa._

I scan ahead and notice that the little slicer has been busy in other ways. The sensors that would normally be active up to the wall are disabled. I realize that I have only a small window of opportunity. I run to the wall and with a quick dip into the Force, I leap up to the parapet. A guard, clad in a standard uniform and oval helmet is at the top of my leap. My leap ends with a kick to the face and a Force-grab to keep him from falling.

This is what they keep me around for and why Nola continues to bribe me with large amounts of breakfast food.

I look below me. I am relieved to see that the light is back on and the sensors are active. I pull the unconscious guard under the cover of some crates. I disable his blaster and run along the parapet to the stairs. I scan the area and am suddenly overwhelmed by grief and pain.

I guess that is where I am headed.

I come to an area that has "detention block" written all over it. There are three storm troopers and a naval officer standing there. I do not miss a step, as I gather them all up into the Force and crash them into each other. I shift them behind some crates and look at the door. I concentrate on the mechanism and crush the lock. It springs open.

I am staring into a large open room filled with heartache. I can sense the fear and misery of about thirty Twi'leks, Zeltrons, and of course, Togruta engulfing me. I step through the door -

And am immediately struck by blunt object against my left montral. My head swims and the pain drops me to my knees.

I don't lose consciousness, but it is not for the lack of trying on the part of the Togruta male, who appears to be as shocked as I am. He immediately starts apologizing profusely in our shared language. I hold up my hand as I try to stop my head from falling off of my neck.

I begin to catch what he is saying, as my brain stops rotating. Just as I am about to reply to his onslaught of Togruti, my trusty brain starts rotating the other way. I clamber over to the corner and empty my stomach of its ration bars and water. When I am through bringing them up, my guts and my head settle with only a dull ache. The fog is still there.

The young hunter continues to apologize. Once the language center of my brain steadies, I reply to his questions and soothe him.

I look at my new responsibilities. All of them are dirty and clad in rags, but seem to be in good health and well-fed. The fact  only serves to piss me off more, as I realize the underlying reason for their health. They seem to be linked together with loose collars. Collars that I no doubt are laden with explosives or electricity. As I try to think of a way to disable the collars, they all fall off with an audible clank on the floor of the enclosure. In my mind, I imagine that I hear a little girl's glee as she disrupts the lives of Imperials and makes mine easier.

I can see all of the inhabitants of the room looking at me expectantly. My foggy brain is in overdrive trying to come up with a way to tell them that I am not here for them. I can't find any way.

Nor do I really want to. I turn my brain to trying to find a way out for all of them.

I do what any commander would do. I assess my forces. Most of them are Twi'leks; but there are a few Zeltrons and Togruta. All adults.

My eyes light on two Zeltron males and a female. _No, Mace, not for that reason. There won't be any attaching going on right now._

_We get out of this, though..._

I shake my head to clear it. The Zeltrons' empathic resonance and pheromones are not helping, as they are obviously looking me up and down, after the initial fear subsides.

"Okay, kids," I say. "Turn it down. Not now. Maybe later, I'll show you a few things, but right now, I need you because you don't have lekku or montrals."

I lead the three out to where I had stashed the storm troopers. Realization dawns on what I have in mind. They immediately smile and drag the troopers into the room. Within minutes the troopers are lying trussed up and in the collars. The armor and buckets fit with varying degrees of success, but they fit. Best of all, all three of the kids know how to use the blasters.

I look among the discarded clothes of the Zeltron and find something more suitable to wear as a prisoner. Since all three species don't seem to have any issues of modesty, I strip out of the body suit and don the tank top and simple trousers that the three were wearing. I find that for the first time since I came back to Christophsis, I can actually move like I want to.

XXXXX

The sorry little procession makes its way towards another part of the complex. One of the storm troopers pushes me along. I am in binders, but they are not Force cuffs--they are also not totally locked. I try to make myself look as downcast as possible.

_If this doesn't work, I will be much more convincing._

The other two Zeltrons of the three, who I found were actually triplets, are leading the rest of the slaves out to near the gates. One of the Twi'leks, who in a past life was one of Cham's freedom fighters doesn't hesitate when I give him a pack filled with something else that I never seem to leave home without--magnetic explosives. I told him to use them liberally, but leave us some emergency transportation.

Before we left, I watched Flori and Zan, the two Zeltrons leading the others away, touch foreheads with their brother, Tori, as he leads me away. "Take care of him, Ahsoka," Flori says to me, "he is the runt." Tori snorts. Flori folds me into her embrace. "Take care of yourself as well, Ahsoka," says Flori, as she hugs me. While she is hugging, I feel a warm hand slipping into my pants at the back over my ass. "We are holding you to your promise for after this is over," she whispers.

I am not really sure which one's hand went roving.

I suddenly find something else to do, before Zan finds an excuse to "hug."

Zuni, the Twi'lek bomber, nods his head to me. He gives off an aura of experience and stability.

"Zuni, I am leaving it to your judgement. I am going to try to rescue Isval and get her out of here. I have to find her first. If you get an idea that we are not getting out, you blow everything. Clear?"

"Clear, Ahsoka, but I am going to give you every chance I can. I don't leave people behind."

"Fair enough," I say. "One more time, for me and the rest, what's the plan?"

"The two kids in stormie outfits get us close to the gate. I place explosives on everything that looks like it might blow up, except for one of the AT-TEs; the one closest to the gate, as well as an AT-RT or two. We wait for you and Isval and Torj to come out and blow everything. If you are not out in thirty, we blow everything and make for the ridge to find Cham and your droid."

"Good man," I say. "May the Force be with us all."

I come back to the here and now. I reach out and try to sense more suffering. I am rewarded quickly as pain flares through the Force. I nod in the direction to Tori. He sticks his blaster in my back and we head inside the corridor.

We come to a door with two storm troopers guarding it. One of them has the insignia of a Captain. I wave my hand with the cuffs. I tell the Captain, "You will bring us in and tell the officer that I am a fresh capture for interrogation. Your assistant will leave us and go back to the barracks and sleep."

The second trooper intones, "I will go to the barracks and sleep," and leaves.

The Captain repeats. "I will take you into the room and tell the Commander that you are a fresh capture for interrogation."

I realize that his voice is the voice of thousands of my brothers that I fought with, played with, lived with, and died with in my heart when they didn't come back. My heart seizes with emotion - guilt, grief, love....

I sense something else, as we move towards the door. I sense familiarity.

XXXXX

We enter the room and I take in a scene from hell. Two troopers stand inside. Screams assault me after the soundproof door opens. A blue-skinned Twi'lek woman is strapped to a scan grid as another figure stands near her charging the electricity.

He turns towards the door with irritation, as he stops the charge.

Standing in front of me is one of the larger, more heavily muscled _Vode_ I have seen. His shaven head glistens in the dim light. He is stripped to the waist and has muscles on top of muscles. I realize that this is most probably an Alpha or maybe even a Null-ARC, even though I know all of the latter. He looks at me.

"What is this?"he asks in a slurring voice. I realize that he is very drunk; a large empty bottle rolls down from behind his boots.

"Fresh capture for interrogation, Commander," the Captain intones.

He looks me up and down. An absolutely evil smile touches his lips. But then there is something else.

His amber eyes, identical to so many dear faces are looking at me with recognition.

"Well, if it isn't Skywalker's little tailhead," he says. "I thought that we put you up against a wall and out of our misery during the war."

"I guess you don't read much, do you musclehead?"I say without thinking. _It's a gift._

He draws his hand back and my head snaps back. His backhand would've probably dropped Floofy, but I keep my feet. I am proud of myself. Blood flows freely from my lip. I am even prouder that I respond like a _Vod_ and head-butt him square in the nose, with a classic Keldabe Kiss. I hear the bone and cartilage crunch. I feel his blood running down my forehead markings. I spit out my blood and bare my teeth in a grin; canines showing. He draws back his fist; thinks better of it. He smiles.

"Maybe I can teach you a few lessons, before I remedy the Republic's mistake. Take the other tailhead off of the scan grid. Put the Jedi on there."

_I really hate that nickname._

 

 

 

 


	5. Escaping

The Alpha stares at me with his demented, bloodshot eyes. The two stormtroopers remove Isval from the torture device, making room for me. No one seems to notice that my binders are not locked. I can feel Tori tensing behind me, his blaster ready.

_Not yet_. I send to him as best as possible. Knowing that his empathic resonance is overwhelming him with anger, I smile and try to calm him. I think of times in my life when I was happy - times with Anakin, Master Plo, Rex and the boys, even Lux and Barriss.

_Croft._

That stops me, as each of those thoughts turn dark, filled with uncertainty, loss, and the crushing loneliness of being left behind. I shake my head and try to clear my head.

Something must have worked enough, as I feel him relax. Through the resonance, I feel peace and comfort as he tries to calm and center me. I close my eyes.

As I am jerked toward the scan grid by the two troopers, my trooper and the Captain stand mute. I know that Tori is going through a million scenarios in his head to get me out of this.

I have one more.

I draw on the Force and picture the two troopers' heads slamming together. As my hands start to close, I hear a quiet word behind me.

"No."

The Alpha looks behind me with incredulity on his face. "What did you say, Captain?"

"I said - No, Commander," the Captain says.

The voice of my brothers continues, "I have stood by while you have enslaved people, Zero. I have watched as you have betrayed everything that we were bred for."

"You useless meat-droid," the Alpha, Zero snarls. "I should've known you were too weak. You're just an normal. You're defective. I was going to send you to Kamino and let them end you. But, no, in a momentary fit of weakness, I decided to keep you..."

His words are cut off by two blaster bolts arcing into the two troopers. The Captain has dropped both of them before my trooper can get his blaster up.

The Captain looks at Tori and says, "I am assuming that you are with the Jedi, useless."

I motion to Tori to look after Isval. She appears conscious and taking in the incredible scene silently.

My binders drop from my hands with a clink. My lightsaber flies into my hand from where it was tucked in Tori's belt. With the other hand, I violently shove Zero against the wall as hard as I and the Force can. Thankfully, he stays down after sliding down the wall.

I turn towards the Captain. The visor of his bucket looks at me impassively. His blaster is pointed at me, but held loosely.

"The question is, Captain--whose side are you on?" I ask.

"My own," he replies calmly.

He slings his blaster. His hands come up to his bucket and remove it.

My heart rises into my throat as I stare at his one good eye. His cybernetic eye, with the scar through it, looks right through me. His good eye is not much happier to see me.

Wolffe.

The last time I saw him, he was firing the stun bolt that put me back in Tarkin's clutches--that sent me to the trial that changed my life. He stares at me, unblinkingly.

Tori is helping Isval up. He is staring at both of us. My lightsaber is still in my hand, but I sheathe it.

He breaks the stalemate first. "The only reason I didn't put a bolt through your head when I saw you is because of what you meant to General Plo," he says. "Otherwise I would have killed you as a Jedi."

"Did you honestly think that you could mind-trick me, little girl?"

I bring my saber back up. "Not so little anymore, you bastard, " I snarl. "I don't know if I can keep from killing someone who murdered Jedi. Even one who was a slave when he did it."

That does it. His anger flares. He pulls his hair back and shows me a small scar on his head.  
"I didn't kill any Jedi," he says, "Rex got to me and told me to get the chip removed, after what happened to Fives and Tup. I stayed to try to save Plo, but he was flying, dammit."

"Jag and the fighters did it."

I saw the emotion playing in his eye. "Those damned fighters that he loved so much, did for him in the end."

For the first time, that gruff voice, the voice that could strike fear in shinies and fourteen year old Padawans, wavers, "I saw my brothers of the Wolfpack, the bloodlust in their eyes when the Order came down. Fortunately, we didn't have any other Jedi with us. Those brothers, who Plo loved and cared for, cheered when his fighter went down."

I close my eyes. I open them when I hear a commotion from Tori's area. I walk over there and look down.

Isval is struggling with Tori. I reach out with the Force and lift her up by her shirt. I pull her over to eye level. My little chat with Wolffe gives an edge to my voice. "I am going to only say this once," I say through clenched teeth, "you have caused me and a lot of people a great deal of trouble. I am not sure that you are worth it. But Cham Syndulla and a darling little girl think that you are. From this moment forward, if you so much as look at me funny, so much as start one syllable of anything that will disobey or contradict my orders, I am going to leave your worthless ass on that scan grid. You can take it up with Chuckles over there." I point toward the crumpled Alpha.

"Are we clear?" I ask. I put my saber back on my belt.

"We are clear," she says in a whisper of a voice. I pull out my canteen and help her drink from it.

I look at Wolffe. He has a smirk on his face that rivals any that the Queen of Smirks could offer.

"What?" I say.

"I didn't know you had it in you Little 'Soka," he says quietly.

I close my eyes, suddenly ready for a nap.

In the distance, I hear explosions. Sounds like Zuni has started his party.

"Time to go everyone, Tori, grab Isval," I instruct.

I look up at the camera pickup and wave at it. I hear a microphone come on. "Numa," I say to the pickup, "wipe everything in the computers, including footage. Triple wipe it. Open everything and anything that can overload, do it. We'll see you in a bit."

"Master Jedi," Isval says. "If I may, on the files under a shield with a clearance code marked Aura 32212, is a server marked Alpha 0 Personal. It is the clone's complete slave operation files, contacts, routes, even personal communication with his connections among the Zygerrians. I was going to get it when I was caught. It could be very useful."

"Numa, did you get that?" I ask my warrior. The lights flicker once.

"Get that file, then triple wipe. Even helmet footage through the network." I say," Tori, get Isval out of here."

Tori grabs the woman and slings her arm over his shoulder without a word and heads out. Isval scoops a blaster up on her way out.

I turn towards the specter of my past.

"So are you going to kill me or come with me?" I challenge.

"It is tempting to kill you, Tano," he says, "but then I think about you and Plo; what you mean to Rex."

The Force screams at me as Wolffe is struck in the back. He goes down hard.

Revealed behind him is Zero, holding one of the dead troopers' blasters.

"How touching," he says. "I guess I get to take care of two problems for the Empire."

He opens fire and charges me. My lightsaber is out and deflecting the bolts. I deflect one into his blaster, but not before a second bolt knocks the weapon out of my hand.

I charge toward him and we grapple. He has a lot more weight and height on me, but I've got the agility. I swing a left hook into his jaw and follow through with a kick to his groin. It is like hitting and kicking a stone wall.

I dodge his grasp towards my throat, but his follow-up punch catches me in the mouth, causing more blood to flow from it. As he is following up, I slam both of my hands on his ears. He bellows in pain, but is able to connect with my middle. I fall to my knees after what feels like a rancor-kick knocks the breath out of me. He seizes me by my throat and hauls me to my feet and higher. As my windpipe compresses, I reach out with a barely audible whisper to the Force. I see it connect with him in a quizzical expression in his eyes. Without warning, he throws me to the opposite side of the room. More stars crawl into my vision; the air in my lungs is knocked into the next room, but at least I can draw more. I pull myself off of the wall and to my knees. I see that the Alpha is struggling as well.

I look into his eyes and see a realization. He pulls a very large knife from his boot. My eyes track around the room frantically searching for my lightsaber. I am sure that I can no longer fight him off with my hands--not in the shape that I am in.

His smile widens on his face, as he turns to the clone lying on the floor. He grabs Wolffe by his hair and pulls his head up. The knife edges toward Wolffe's throat. Wolffe is conscious and looking at me. A slow smile eases across his lips and he shakes his head at me. _Leave me_ he mouths.

Something in me snaps. I don't know what. Whether it is the knowledge that my own indiscipline and disobedience to Organa's wishes led me here to this moment, or the fact that I cannot bear to see another of the _Vod'e_ die for me. I rise to my feet.

"Do you think that you can actually get to me, little tailhead, before I can spill this waste of oxygen's blood?"Zero sneers.

I feel the anger rise. I feel the years of teachings fly to battle with it.

"Wasn't trying to get to you,asshole," I hear myself say.

I raise my hand. "You don't have the guts," Zero says, as he starts to rise with my hand to his feet and higher. His eyes widen in surprise and then begin to bulge. Despite the loss of air, he pulls his captive with him and maintains the knife at Wolffe's throat. I see droplets of blood on the _Vod's_ throat. He closes his eyes.

I can feel Zero's throat under my hand; his windpipe closing. He drops Wolffe. His free hand claws at his throat as tears begin to flow from my eyes. I fight the anger, concentrating only on saving my _Vod_. He fights the presence holding his throat and struggles to jam the knife into Wolffe. 

In my mind's eye, I see Numa and Leia watching me.

I see a tall Kel Dor, who looks bigger than the world watching me.

I close my hand even tighter. There is a sickening noise an instant before the knife hits the ground. The huge Alpha falls beside Wolffe. Wolffe opens his eyes, just as I drop my hand.

I fall to my hands and knees; I vomit bile and stomach lining on to the prefab floor. As I finish, I hear footsteps haltingly walking towards me.

Wolffe stands over me, swaying with the pain. He kneels beside me and draws me to my knees. My tears stain his armor as he pulls me to his chest. "Commander Tano," he says in his gruff voice, "thank you."

"Are you okay?" I ask, stupidly.

"I will live, Little 'Soka," he replies. It no longer sounds like an epithet when he says it. He continues, "That was truly your first Force-choke, wasn't it?"

"Yes," I say in a small voice.

"Glad you made this one count," he says, with what passes for a smile. "You didn't kill him."

"I..."

"He killed himself when he didn't drop the knife," he says, as gently as he can. "You and the Force were merely the mechanism for his misguided choice."

My jaw drops. These were more words than I had heard the officer say in two years of knowing him.

"He couldn't be left alive, Ahsoka," Wolffe continues. "He knew what you are and that you are alive." "I would not have let him harm you. I see that now. For Plo. For my brothers that you saved in the War. For those who are marching far away."

My eyes continue to water. _I Remember you so you are eternal_.

I shake myself out of my stupor. I have a group of ex-slaves that are depending on me to stay ex-slaves. "Are you coming with us?" I ask Wolffe.

"I will for awhile, Commander."

I grab him and support his weight on my shoulder. I call his blaster to me and hand it to him, as well as my saber. Together, we walk from the chamber of horrors. I look back at Alpha. An act that I was once accused of - that nearly led to my death as a traitor and a murderer, but led me to my current path, had saved Wolffe's life.

As we start to run (or hobble fast) from the room, we hear explosions and screams. Wolffe looks at me and says, "Plo would be so proud of what you have become, Little 'Soka."

XXXXX

We exit onto the parade ground to chaos. Zuni's bombs have made short work of most of the structure. One AT-TE and most of the other vehicles are in flames. I see no sign of my kids and their charges.

We can see that the gate is open and most of the walls of the prefab fort have holes in them. The sky is lightening; if we don't get out of here soon, reinforcements will be on top of us. Even Imperial obtuseness will see the glow and think that something is up.

"Let's go, 'Soka," Wolffe says. "There might be a AT-RT we can catch a ride on."

We limp toward the motor pool near the gate. As we round a burning RT, a red bolt flies from the night. Wolffe shoves me to the ground and falls beside me as the bolt intersects with his chest.

I hear myself scream incoherently, as I unsheathe my saber. I deflect the next bolt inexpertly. I stand and cover Wolffe. I hear a groan from my feet.

I decide to go on the offensive. I move towards the single trooper who is firing repeatedly, I block the bolts, but he is joined by three others. I can feel my saber arms tiring. Just as I am about to take cover and figure out what is next, I hear a sound like the braying of every nerf in the universe.

A large, six-legged gray blur hurtles through the gate. The blur picks up one of the troopers in its mouth and crunches down on the cheap armor. One of the other troopers turn towards the beast and raises his blaster. A blaster bolt splits his bucket in half. Other bolts from behind Floofy make short work of the other two troopers. I walk over and pat Floofy on his snout. "Good boy, Floof. Let go of the trooper." Reluctantly he drops the trooper's battered body.

Wolffe limps over to me, his chest plate blackened. Without a word, I hug him tightly to me. "I guess I owe you one, Wolffe," I say.

"I think we're even for the stun bolt on Coruscant, 'Soka."

The three Zeltrons walk from behind Floofy. I look up on top of the Krull and see a little blue face smiling at me, next to an older, less cheerful face. I look at them all with my best, "Commander" look.

"I think that the lot of you need to clean out your ears. I distinctly told you all to beat feet and get out of here," I say.

Without a word, my three "stormtroopers" walk over to me and pull off their buckets. They wordlessly support Wolffe and I.

Surprisingly, we are supported with a minimum of wandering hands.

As we are brought back to the gate, a crowd of ex-slaves approach us to thank us. As they do, the Force screams at me once again.

"Cover!" I scream, reverting back to past times. Every one of my charges scatter and fall to the ground. An explosion erupts near us. I look up and see the other AT-TE charging towards us. I look around at my force. I hear a scream from Flori and Tori as they lean over their brother. I switch back to the AT. I ignite my saber and rise. I think back to the last time I was batting artillery rounds away with my saber. I don't think this will work out as well for me. I take a step and hear a noise from the past.

Point Rain. Geonosis. Relieving the square. A screaming noise as the _Vod'e_ cheer. The AT explodes as a battered Y-Wing unloads its ordinance from its forward cannon and the turret. I can see a little faded red and green droid in its socket as it screams over.

Now, as then, cheering erupts. Just like at that legendary battle, there is a pickup as Cham's cargo freighter flares in for a landing just outside the encampment.

I start over to get everyone onboard, but Wolffe beats me to it. "Come on you slackers," he bellows, "do you want to homestead here?"

As I come down from the surge of adrenaline and the Force, intense pain buffets me. I can see Flori and Tori leaning over their brother's body. I kneel beside them and take them in my arms. Zan is still alive, but short of getting him into bacta in the next five minutes, it is hopeless.

Wolffe and Cham walk over to our little group. "Time to go, young ones," Wolffe says, gently. "Your _Vod_ would not want you to join him. Come, I will take care of him."

They both reach down and kiss him. As they rise, I lean over and touch his lips with mine. I feel his life slip away.

XXXXX

Arseven brings my Y-Wing in for a landing. He floats down from the ship. I encircle him with my arms and rest my head against his dome. _Thank you, little guy._

Wolffe walks over to me, all precision in spite of his wounds. I stand and face him. He salutes.

"Commander," he intones in the voice that I have heard so many times, "All of our people, living and dead, are aboard the evac ship."

From a half-remembered lesson from Rex, I stand straight and return his salute properly. "Thank you, Commander Wolffe," I say formally. His eyes start at my restoration of his former rank--rank that Zero had taken away from him.

"I have the rendezvous coordinates from General Syndulla. He would like to meet with you. He has information that might be helpful to you with Senator Organa." There is one small problem, however."

I sigh. "Isn't there always, Wolffe?"

"The little girl is refusing to leave without her beast."

 

 


	6. Deciding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all who have been on the ride.

I sit in the main crew lounge of Cham's freighter. I stare at the twisting light of hyperspace. I wordlessly stroke the hair of a young Zeltron whose head lies in my lap. She is sleeping, finally, after crying in my arms for what seemed like hours. I don't mind. It is my penance for my choice--a choice that left one brother lying dead in one of the holds of the ship and the other sitting across from me staring at me with increasingly angry eyes, as he contemplates his brother's loss.

Choices. The choices that many of us made in the last week. Isval's choice to go on her crusade to Christophsis. Cham's to go after her and subsequently lie to Bail, Nola, and I to get us involved.

Most of all, my choice to disobey Organa and stay to help free Isval and the other slaves. A choice that left Tori and Flori without their brother and me with this hollow feeling in my chest from the escape.

A choice I would make again, if I had to.

I told Cham that I didn't really have a choice not to help Isval. My life for over a decade was to help people. I couldn't forsake that, just because I was no longer a Jedi. The rights that I guard with my choices - I couldn't abandon them once I left the Order.

In the big picture of things, there are over two dozen people who will be reunited with their families because of my choice. Cham has agreed to help the Togruta and Zeltrons relocate if they wish, but many of them are electing to stay and join his movement. Their gratitude as each one walked past me in the lounge was palpable.

But, I will pay a heavy price for this choice, in my own heart, if nowhere else, unless Bail decides that I am too much of a liability for his movement.

The choice that I made led me to use a power that I had never actually tapped into before, except as a distraction when fighting a murderous Trandoshan. I was accused of it. Others thought me capable of in the past - so much so that they had cast me out and nearly convicted and sentenced me to be shot to death by my brothers.

Wolffe had no problem with my choice.

Wolffe - there was another choice made. After he got everybody on board the freighter, after his report to me, he told me that he wasn't coming with us. He had gotten notice before our raid that many of the clones were being retired. He told me that he was going to vanish and maybe find Rex or some of the others. He faded into the day without saying anything to anyone else. I went to embrace him as he left with his blaster and some credits that I had. Instead he swept me up and kissed me hard.

"That's for all my brothers who always wanted to do that," he had said, "when you got grown enough." 

I could say that I did not respond; that I pushed him away; that I didn't allow my tongue to dance with his; and I didn't let my hands wander a bit. Or that my breathing was slow and steady when we broke apart; that my lekku stripes weren't turning so many different shades of blue.

I would be untruthful if I did say that.

I look up from my reverie as I hear the door open. Cham Syndulla walks in followed by my ray of sunlight for this whole trip.

Numa had made a grown-up choice when we left. Cham had managed to convince a local on Christophsis who wandered up just before we left to take Floofy to his family, which included a little girl that the beast could follow and protect. Numa cried and hugged him, but she let him go. Floofy was just as reluctant to part, but as the local led him away he turned and gave his bugle-like bray and then was gone.

Cham and Numa sit down next to me. Tori looked at us and got up and left. I continue to stroke Flori's hair as she slept.

Cham tosses me a datacard, which I catch with my free hand.

"A little gift for you, that might help you with Organa--if he has a problem with your choice," he says, his heavily accented voice rife with irony.

"We were contacted a few weeks back, by someone who wants to leave the Black Sun," he continues, "a contact who is willing to get us deployment information on a sector fleet in the Mid-Rim."

I look at him. "And monongs will fly out of his ass, right?" _Little earcones, Tano._

Cham smiles briefly, "I cannot attest to that, Ahsoka, but it might provide some information to give to Organa. Information that might help you into his good graces. Basically, the enforcer says that he is running an operation in which the sector Moff is willing to sell these schedules due to some, ah, practices that he has been caught at."

So. Good old fashioned blackmail.

"Who brought you this information?" I ask.

He pauses. He pauses some more. "Isval made the contact."

"Why am I not surprised?" I reply.

"She is a good warrior, with a passionate heart. If you knew her and fought together, you would be friends and fellow warriors," Cham says.

_How come out of all the people that I freed today, she is the only one that will not come speak to me?_

As if reading my mind, Cham adds, "She is very proud. You are a strong warrior and you called her out on her pride. It will take time."

"This is time that I really don't have, Cham," I say.

I turn the datacard over and examine it. It gives me a moment to reply. 

"I will look into this, Cham," I tell him, "but I can't guarantee anything. I appreciate the thought. I made my choice and I will take the consequences."

He inclines his head. "If you do decide to use it, you might want to move fast. Isval said that the remnants of the Pyke Syndicate are interested. We cannot use this information, as it holds no interest for Ryloth."

"Marvelous," I snort. "Tell Isval, thanks, for me."

"You could tell her yourself," he says quietly. "Aren't Jedi supposed to be bigger about these things?"

"My dear General, as I keep reminding you, I am not a Jedi."

It is his turn to snort.

"Cham," I say, "that information that Isval got on Zero's operation."

"Yes?"he asks as he looks curiously at me.

"Release it on the Holonet. Bring it to the light of day," I say with conviction, "don't let the Empire sweep it under the rug. Maybe some other sleemos will get their due."

He looks pensive, then smiles and nods. "As you say, Fulcrum."

The stars outside shift to their normal pinpricks. There, in the port is a single Y-Wing, with a proud little droid piloting.

I reach down and kiss Flori on the cheek. She shifts and moans, then awakens. I smile down at her and say, "I have to go, sweetie. Do you still want to come with me to Alderaan?"

She sits up and hugs me. My ribs and most of my internal organs cry in protest from the pressure. She lets me go. We stand.

"I have to say goodbye to Tori." she says, "He is still going to stay with General Syndulla."

"That is his choice," I say, but the pain I feel is not from being tossed around.

"Ahsoka, he will not be angry for long," Flori says, "I don't think that he is really angry at you. He'll come around."

I nod. Cham and Numa join me in the walk to the airlock. As we approach the hatch for me to climb down, Numa seizes me and pulls me down to my knees. Her head rests on my shoulder.

"Take care, sweetheart," I say. "I will come visit you. You can have my back anytime."

She holds me tighter, but she doesn't cry. I am not as brave as she is. Before she releases me, she turns her head and her lekku intertwine with mine. My heart leaps more than I thought possible as I realize what this signifies for a Twi'lek.

_Family_.

Syndulla, too is moved by Numa's gesture, as she releases me. He clasps my arm again in the warrior's grip. He looks into my eyes and puts his other hand on my shoulder.

"Take care of yourself, my proud warrior," he says in his strong voice. "If you ever need a change, or if Organa makes one for you, you are always welcome on Ryloth. You have fought for her before and helped save many of her sons and daughters. I would welcome you as my left hand, as Isval is my right."

I give him the full-blown Smirk, "You would have to keep your left hand from killing your right," I say.

He smiles broadly. "With two such warriors for Ryloth, the Empire wouldn't stand a chance."

I nod to them both.

Flori joins me at the hatch. She hugs Numa and bows to Cham. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, Ahsoka, I am," she replies in a strong voice. "I have said my goodbyes to Tori and Zan."

"You get the best view, Flori," I say, "in the turret."

"Really?"

"Yep. I spent quite a bit of time in one, once. At least we'll be home soon, so a 'fresher won't be an issue."

"And, Flori," I add.

"Yes, Ahsoka?"

"Don't touch any buttons."

**Epilogue**

Senator Bail Prester Organa, Viceroy of Alderaan, Consort to Queen Breha of Alderaan, and father to Princess Leia stands on the balcony of the Palace of Alderaan and thinks about stubborn children and paladins. He can't figure out which one is the worse influence on the other, as he watches Leia jump on Ahsoka's chest as the ex-Jedi tickles her ribs unmercifully. The sound of their laughter echoes from the garden. It is a welcome sound after Ahsoka's harrowing last few months.

_Harrowing for Breha and me. It seems like only an inconvenience for Ahsoka._

He recalls a younger version, a few years ago, standing fearlessly between Padme and Aurra Sing's blaster, a lightsaber unsheathed, while she grasped a blaster wound on her saber arm. The determined expression on her face was a match to that of Padme, holding her own blaster on the bounty hunter.

He can see so much of Padme's influence on the young woman currently tossing his daughter up in the air and catching her with little effort or wincing. Only a bit of sore muscles and bruising, this time.

But, he can see the influence of her master as well, in her impulsiveness, her recklessness in protecting others, the ability to improvise strategies that usually make the difference in success versus failure, and, most of all, her caring, kind nature towards those she loves.

The last trait is a mix of both of them - Senator and Jedi. In one of them, this trait, taken to the extreme - proved to be his downfall; something to exploit.

Time will tell how much Ahsoka's Master has truly influenced her.

Bail shakes himself away from darker thoughts and smiles down at the two children. Ahsoka looks up at him, sensing his scrutiny. She smiles up at him, with a faraway look in her eyes. She too, seems to be thinking about the past. She kneels down to Leia and kisses her cheek. The little girl reluctantly walks over to her new Zeltron caretaker. He watches as the young warrior closes her eyes, as if to steel herself, opens them, and walks into the palace with her head held high.

XXXXX

I walk into the palace and sit in a small library, awaiting my fate. I am sure how Senator Organa will see my recent mission. That I once again improvised and disobeyed his instructions. I know that is how Nola sees it; she has told me in no uncertain terms her opinion on my improvisational riffs. There were many Huttese terms included in her monologue. I didn't get too many words in before she abruptly turned and left the room.

I had been cooling my heels at the cabin, practicing lightsaber forms and running the ridges. Yes, I spent time in the old bathtub, trying to get the ache from Floofy's love toss out of my muscles and bones. It will take time, but at least I am not wasting time in bacta. Sitting in that tub, or kneeling in meditation, or lying in bed, I think about the mission, of seeing Cham's face when Isval came back with me from the Imperial camp, whole and relatively unharmed. I think of his parting words to me and the warrior's grasp of my forearm that he gives me again. I think of Wolffe and my brothers dead and alive. I hope that he finds peace, wherever he is.

Bail and Nola enter the room. I can read nothing from their expressions. Bail walks over to where I am sitting. I rise and start to bow to him, as respectfully as to any of my old Masters. Probably more respectful than I would be to Mace Windu, Master-this-was-actually-your-great-trial. His handsome face breaks into a warm smile, as he embraces me. He motions me to sit back down and he joins me. Nola remains standing behind him, as inscrutable as ever.

"Ahsoka," he says. "I am glad to see you back and in one piece. I guess the armor worked."

"It did, once," I reply, "then I abandoned it when it jammed and I couldn't move."

His expression doesn't change, but I can see the seismic eye roll that Nola gives.

I take a breath and wait for his displeasure.

Surprisingly, his voice is mild. "Ahsoka," he says, "I realize that you think that you are doing what you think is right when you go against my instructions, but I have to look at the bigger picture, as well as protecting you."

I continue to look him in the eye. I try to keep my expression neutral and the fire out of my heart.

"We are building something slowly here, something that has the potential to change everything, if we let it build in its own time," he continues, "I know that every time that you go out; we run the risk of losing you. I know that this may be the cost of what we are doing. But, I don't want you to sell yourself cheaply."

"Ahsoka, I know what you went through with the Jedi. I know that the Council treated you wrongly. You have to trust me, that I am looking out for your best interests, as well as the movement."

He falls silent.

"Senator, I have the utmost respect for you and Queen Breha," I say, "but you have to trust me, as well." I take a deep breath and center myself. "A life was chosen for me when I was very young. I didn't have a say in the matter, but I recognize why it was chosen--you could say it was my birthright. I knew from the time I could think, that this life could very easily result in my death. I didn't run away from it; I embraced it. I survived it, but not without cost."

I pause to let my words sink in. He listens intently.

"This life that you have asked me to choose, I have a say in. I know that you would let me walk away if I felt I needed to. But I can't right now. I am committed to your vision."

"But I have to ask you to trust me. In my past life, I was well trained, both by the Order, and by my Master. I don't make these decisions lightly; they are based on my knowledge of the Force and my instincts. I know what I am capable of and what I need to do. I am not that apprentice who misjudged my vision - making everyone but Padme doubt me."

I can see him blanch when I say the words. He was one who doubted me.

"I will make mistakes," I continued, "but please trust me to learn from them and let me do what I need to do."

"Otherwise, Fulcrum is a fraud. She cannot start a movement for you if she cannot make her own decisions."

He is very still and silent. Even Nola has no expression on her face. Finally, he speaks, "Alright Ahsoka, we will try to leave you alone. But, you have to know that Nola and I are going to find a way to make you more safe; to protect you when you are the hidden face of this movement. I don't know what form this will take, but we are going to try."

"Fair enough, as long as it doesn't involve a full set of _beskar'gam_."

"So," he says, "what about this information that you acquired on your trip? What do you think? Is it something worth the risk?"

"I am a bit suspect of it. I don't know if I should act on it or not. It is pretty fragmentary, but it does come from Cham. I feel like he and I strengthened our rapport, even though his request of us was based upon a lie. I have some contacts who might be able to give us some more background on it. If I get good feedback from them, I think we should move on it, no matter the risk. It could give us an entire Imperial Sector Fleet's deployment schedules."

"Alright," he says, "I will trust your judgement on this." He stands up and we embrace. He holds me for a long time. "Take care of yourself, Ahsoka," he whispers, "Breha and Leia would never forgive me if something happened to you." I feel his smile against my lek. "Especially Leia. Who else would carry her on their shoulders and jump off mountains with her?" He turns and walks away, not bothering with my surprised expression.

Nola nods at me. "Take care of yourself, Tano," she says. The good-bye is not exactly warm, but her next words take the sting off. "I'll give you a couple of days, and I'll bring breakfast for you."

I walk out on the palace grounds and head for my transport back to the cabin. I am not quite skipping, as I might have done a decade ago, but it is close, as I walk with purpose. I have a date with an informant that will hopefully send me off into the stars again.

XXXXX

"Senator, " Nola asks, "What are you going to do?"

Bail starts. He is thinking about the Jedi - two in particular. "She is right, we probably need to be less controlling. She knows her skill and her job."

"But," he continues, stopping to look at his assistant, "I think it is time to bring in some extra protection."

"She is not going to like that," the woman says.

"I know. I think we will have to be discreet."

He thinks for a second and makes a choice. "Give Bel Iblis a call on Corellia."

"The Senator?"she asks.

"No, the old man. The Dragon."

"I think that he has someone who can help us," Organa says.

Nola gives a skeptical look. "I think that this could be a volatile mix, especially if they find out who the other is."

Bail looks pensive and finally nods.

 


End file.
